


Here In My Car

by PussNHikingBoots



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Fun Dip is mentioned too so that's good, I mean, In a Car, Oral Sex, it's the LeMans, so my life is complete, there's oral sex in the LeMans, what else could you ask for?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PussNHikingBoots/pseuds/PussNHikingBoots
Summary: Malcolm gives head to Madison in the LeMans. Gil doesn't know. Or does he?
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	Here In My Car

**Author's Note:**

> I was horrified when Malcolm killed Gil's car because it is not JUST a car.  
> It did, however, have a fantastic backseat to get busy in.

[ ](https://ibb.co/FVcB4d6)

“Ooo - check out that black car. That’s hot!”

Malcolm and Madison are walking back to his place after spending some time at a pool hall. She wanted to give him a couple of pointers so he wouldn’t look like such a doofus next time he played with JT and Tally. He got the stance down pretty well, but obviously geometry was not his best subject. Neither of them mind the 40 minute walk on such a nice evening.

“That’s Gil’s car,” says Malcolm, amused by her reaction.

“Get out of here!” She gives him a playful shove. “That’s _Gil’s_ car? Like _your_ Gil?”

“How many ‘Gils’ do you know? I wonder what he’s doing here.”

“Maybe he’s looking for you.”

“No, he would have used the valet for my building. And tried to call me. There are some decent restaurants around here. Maybe he’s having dinner at one of them.”

“Maybe. Oh my God, Malcolm, you have to give me a ride in that. That is so fucking hot.”

He side-eyes her but good. Not exactly a car guy. “Gil won’t let me drive it. For some reason, he thinks I can’t drive even though I lived in DC for 10 years. Do you know there are some people who think that it’s harder to drive in DC than in New York City?”

“That’s bullshit. I’ve driven in DC plenty of times. I _won’t_ drive in New York City anymore! Not worth it.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure those people are talking about ease of navigation versus aggressive driving skills.”

”Either way, I’m sure you drive just fine, but this is not the kind of car you just let other people drive no matter who those other people are.”

He thinks that’s ridiculous. A car is a car. If you know how to drive, you can drive any car. _Uh oh_. He can tell that one of Madison’s wild ideas has hit her because she literally starts jumping up and down, clapping her hands together to convey her excitement. “Can we break into the car? _Canwecanwe?”_ She gets a wicked look on her face. “If you can’t give me a ride in the car,” she lowers her tone suggestively, “then maybe you can give me a _ride_ in the car,” and then grabs his shoulder to lean into his ear and whisper, “I want you to eat me out in the back seat.” She bites her lower lip, grinning at him, knowing already that she will have some cajoling to do if she’s going to get her way.

He shouldn’t be shocked anymore by her hubris, but he is. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I’m serious. If he won’t let you borrow it, then let’s break in and honor it with our exuberance.”

“Exuberance? I really don’t want to get my DNA all over Gil’s car. Or my _exuberance_ , for that matter.”

“Isn’t your DNA already all over Gil’s car?”

“Well, yeah, but not the kind that shows up under a black light without dusting.”

_“Please, Malcolm, please,_ I want you to eat me out in the LeMans.” She says the name of the car like a radio announcer, and she’s laughing hysterically, grasping onto his fingers, and swinging his arm back-and-forth. “I bet you know how to break into one of these things, too, don’t you?” Perhaps she’ll convince him by getting him to show off for her.

“Of course I do. It doesn’t have an alarm. All I need is a wire hanger. Which I do _not_ have. So let’s _go_.”

She pouts dramatically, and they continue on to his apartment.

“I like my new yo-yo,“ she says. They had stopped at a novelty and vintage toy store on the way back from shooting pool. She had her eye on a miniature clockwork cat with enamel accents, but it was on the pricey side, and since he had offered to pay, she picked out something a little more modest. She’s decent with a yo-yo, and this one sparkles lights when thrown. They had both loaded up on Fun Dips while they were there, and he takes a bunch of packets out of a bag and tosses them into the candy dish on the counter.

“Thanks for teaching me about shooting pool tonight. I guess I wasn’t the greatest student, but I feel like we made some progress.”

“Well, I think you made a lot of progress. Just changing your stance alone is going to improve your shot dramatically. And if you can remember that follow through...”

“Right. The follow-through. Speaking of… If you want me to eat you out, I can do it right here. What do you fancy? The couch? The bed? The floor? How about the bathroom?”

She swats him playfully and then grabs the back of his head and pulls him in for some serious face sucking. That shuts him up smartly. They start groping at each other as they kiss. “Bet you have a wire hanger here.“

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“You do, don’t you! Oh, come on, Bright. Gil doesn’t ever have to know. It’s not like we’re going to hurt the car. Which, by the way is something I would absolutely not allow. And it’s not like it’s going to take forever. Give me like 15 minutes, 10 because I’m already turned on at the thought.” And that was followed by another thought. “Oh my God, how cool would it be if I was wearing my thigh-high suede boots. I would wrap them around your ears and _sqeeeze!”_

“I guess those sandals you’re wearing are just going to have to do,” he says with a smirk.

“Wait, does that mean...?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get a hanger. But first, a little Intel.”

She has no idea what he means, but watches him pull out his phone and touch a few buttons. He looks at her and puts his fingers to his lips to indicate that she should keep quiet. When the person on the other end picks up, he allows them to say, “Malcolm? Malcolm? Hello?” a few times before answering. She can hear the tinny voice just barely and then nothing else when he puts the phone to his ear.

“Gil! I am _so_ sorry. That must’ve been a butt dial. I wasn’t trying to call you.” He pauses as if he’s ready to hang up, but then says, “Hey Gil, you sound like you’re out. I figured you’d be home tonight. … In my neighborhood? … Is that right? … Nice. Is she there with you now? … Are you already eating? … How is it going? ... Sorry, not trying to grill you. … No, not trying to profile _her!_ … OK, yes, I’ll get off the phone and leave you two to it. Good luck. And I want details on Monday.”

He hangs up the phone and says to Madison, “We have at least a full hour, possibly more if things go well on his date. Gil’s on a _date._ Can you believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe that? He’s a handsome man with a good job.”

Malcolm is caught off guard just a bit. He had not really considered those factors. This is _Gil,_ after all. More like a dad then a “handsome man with a good job.“

He goes to get the hanger and she goes to use the bathroom. They meet back at the front door and he starts to walk out when she stops and says, “One minute.” She reaches up underneath her skirt. “I guess I won’t need these.” She wiggles her panties down her legs, discarding them right there on his floor by the front door. She’s so glad that she wore a short, flouncy skirt tonight. Because how fucking cool will that be when all she has to do is lay back in the car, lift that skirt up, and let him bury his head in her crotch. He watches her with amused astonishment and briefly flashes on an image of his mom walking through the door unannounced and seeing the panties.

They walk back down to where the car is parked and he gets to work with the wire. She stands close to him to block as much as possible what he is doing from passersby, one hand rubbing at the front of his pants. Apparently, he doesn’t think this is such a bad idea after all, at least from what she can tell below her palm.

He gets the passenger door unlocked, opens it up, and reaches in to unlock the back door. It’s a ‘66. Everything is manual. Frankly, he doesn’t understand why Gil still has it. Or why he still drives it. It might be better just perpetually parked somewhere where Gil can look at it. The thing gets like 10 miles to the gallon and sounds like an airplane when gunned.

She crawls on her hands and knees across the endless expanse of bench seat, flipping her skirt up momentarily and glancing behind her, teasing Malcolm with a little ass-wiggle. She loves the way the Interior of the Le Mans feels and smells. It reminds her of childhood, riding in cars like this. It reminds her of the gearhead boyfriend she had in her early 20s. It reminds her of the shoebox full of matchbox cars she still keeps in her closet from when she was a child and the scale model cars she used to put together in the spare room when she still lived with her parents.

She turns her body around when she gets to the other side and hikes up her skirt, letting her legs splay open, her right knee bent up against the back of the seat, her left leg stretching out across the floor. He climbs in after her, kisses her mouth long and leisurely. She loves his kisses, devours him for a moment. And then grips the hair at the top of his head, disheveling his sleek gel job and gently guides him down. He does not have to be asked twice.

At first, he just nuzzles against her sex, turning his cheek into the damp and breathing deeply of her scent. His hands close over her thighs, gliding up to wrap around her buttocks and lower back. After a moment, he brings a hand back around front to skim gently over her vulva. The area feels significantly hotter to the touch than the rest of her. He moves a finger to furrow down between her lips. She moans in response and strokes his hair in praise. She smiles down at him and licks her lips, eyes hooded. He gently pushes his finger inside of her, exploring the area. He knows that she wants his tongue, but he wants to tease her a little first.

She has a momentary but overwhelming desire to feel his penis inside of her. But she knows that he gets tense and tight-lipped whenever she brings up the topic of actual intercourse. Now is not the time to brooch that subject.

She bends her other leg up, holding it in place with her arm to give him even better access. “Your tongue, baby. Put your tongue inside of me.“

He obliges, and she pushes her hips up to meet his mouth, absolutely loving the feeling of the warm probing inside her pussy. He fucks her with his tongue until she’s moaning continuously, breath heavy.

He’s moaning now, himself, and pressing his pelvis against the seat, rubbing his trouser-clad hard-on as best he can, allowing the movement to enhance what he’s doing with his tongue. He stops for a moment to turn to the side and let out a groan. He wonders which one of them is going to come first. When he gets back on task, he puts his finger back inside her, mouth sucking gently at her clit.

She’s rocking into his mouth now and grasping at his hair.

“Hey baby. I’m almost ready to come. Are you going to cream your pants for me when I do?”

He gives a hard grunt of agreement, eyes shifting upward to lock onto hers.

Goodness, those blue eyes! She spirals into orgasm, shouting out some garbled string of words. _Exuberance, indeed._ He waits until she’s just starting to come down from it before grinding himself short and hard three times into the seat, lifting his head momentarily to give a loud, “Aaaah!” and then collapsing back into her again, cheek laying against her throbbing sex.

He lays there for a long moment, eyes closed, both of them still shuddering. Then he pulls himself up to kiss her on the mouth. She moans into the musky sweet taste of herself, sinking further into the leather, and wrapping an arm firmly around his neck, the heel of her upturned palm pressing his head closer.

“Guess these pants will be going in the trash,“ he announces.

She chuckles. “Just wash them.”

“Dry clean only.”

“Figures. So take them to the dry cleaner. I’m sure they’ve seen worse.”

“No way.” And then he thinks for a moment, “I suppose I could take them to _a_ dry cleaner. Not mine, but somebody down in the Bowery who won’t recognize me and where I’ll never go again.”

He flips over onto his back and slides down to lay against her chest. She encircles her arms around him. He could fall asleep right here in the backseat of Gil’s car. The thought is unexpectedly pleasant. She doesn’t chitchat, but is enjoying their position as much as he is. She breathes in deeply, the now combined scents of the car and their efforts. _Lovely combination,_ she thinks. _Should come in a bottle._

Malcolm happens to catch something in the passenger side mirror - a figure, still far down the block, but walking their way. A very familiar figure.

“Shit! Gil is coming this way! We need to get out of here, now! Open this door,” he indicates the one she’s leaning against. “He’s less likely to notice us on the street side.” Madison tries frantically to open the door, and then sees that this one is still locked. She pulls the metal up, gets the door open, and tumbles out just barely onto her feet, with Malcolm following closely behind. He grabs her hand and starts walking them quickly towards his building and then veering back onto the sidewalk once they are a safe distance from the car, hoping against hope. They barely get very far when he hears “Malcolm! Is that you?”

They both stop in their tracks. Malcolm is reluctant to turn around, but they’ve been spotted. Not much he can do about it now. All he can hope for is that Gil did not see them coming out of the car.

“Gil!” He lifts his hand in a wave. He pulls Madison forward toward Gil while whispering to her, “If he asks, we are just now walking back from the pool hall. And we _didn’t_ notice his car. If he points out the car, act surprised.“

Gil hastens his steps until he is closer to them. They meet up not half a block up from the car.

“Are you done with your date already? Sounded like you were having a good time,” asks Malcolm.

“Actually, yes. She’s an anesthesiologist and she’s on call tonight. She had to leave early.“

“Leave early? Are you sure it was for her job, or was she just trying to get away from you?“ Then he immediately regrets it when he sees Gil’s face fall. “I’m sorry. I’m sure she didn’t want to leave. Hey, you remember Madison?”

“Of course! From the hospital. Nice to see you again, Madison.“ He clocks her subtly adjusting her skirt. Then he notices Malcolm‘s unusually messy locks. “So… Where are you two coming from?“

Madison pipes up “Pool lessons,” she says, “so he doesn’t embarrass himself the next time he hangs out with JT.”

Gil nods slowly, not really buying the story. “Are you good at pool?”

“She’s pretty darn good. She even knows fancy moves. She tried to teach me, but…“

She gives Malcolm a playful slap on his arm. “I’m not _that_ good - just way better than him. He doesn’t take instruction all that well,” and then she can’t help herself, “at least when it comes to pool.“

“Not when it comes to work either,” offers Gil, sympathetically.

Malcolm is keenly aware of his pants situation and eager to get home. He feels sticky and discomposed, though he takes comfort knowing the pants have a high-quality liner, and it’s unlikely that anything looks amiss.

“Good to see you, Gil. I hope you have a second date with this woman, if you like her. We need to get back and…“ He can’t think of anything to finish that sentence.

“OK, see you.” Gil gives a nod to Madison and turns to go back to his car. He stops at the passenger side first to take his jacket off and lay it down on the seat. “That’s funny. I don’t remember unlocking this door,” he says out loud. He’s usually pretty careful about his car, but with four separate locks, it’s not out of the question. So he shrugs as he puts his jacket away, then shuts the door and goes around to the driver’s side.

He slides behind the wheel and starts to put his key in the ignition. Something is not right. He sniffs the air. “What the-?“ He smells something. Something that wasn’t there when he parked. Something oddly familiar. “Smells like…” His mind flashes to the fidgety way Madison pulled at her skirt and to Malcolm‘s unkempt hair and how they seemed eager to be on their way. The unlocked door. He cranes his head to check the lock on the back seats. Both of them are open. “Mother of God,” he mutters to himself, _“that little brat.”_

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Monday morning, and Malcolm is as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. When Gil walks in, he practically leaps off his seat. Gil has to keep a straight face when he says, “Hope you and Madison had a good weekend. And by the way, _yes_ , I will be seeing my date again. _Julia_.”He pretends not to notice Malcolm’s jumpiness and hands him a stack of files. “Cold cases again today. No action, I’m afraid. But then, you probably got plenty of action this weekend.” And then Gil turns and leaves before his poker face can break.

Malcolm is not quite sure what to make of that. Gil does not seem angry, so he’s probably just ribbing him about being with a girl. Well, he better expect some ribbing back, then. _Julia._

The week proceeds with little fanfare. Malcolm breathes a sigh of relief and texts Madison, “all clear.“ He adds a car emoji at the end for good measure.

On Thursday, the team needs to go to a different precinct to discuss a possible crossover case with some of the detectives in that jurisdiction. Gil’s team is in the conference room, working out a plan. Dani is jotting down a list of all the information they need to obtain, adding a note next to an entry if she knows immediately who would be best to complete the task.

“JT, you don’t mind driving, do you?“ asks Gil. JT’s brows shoot upward and he points to himself, questioning the directive. “Boss?“ Gil is always the one to drive them around in his beloved car. It’s his thing.

Gil explains, “I’ve been taking the subway the last two days. The LeMans is in the shop. I’m getting the seats thoroughly cleaned. The whole thing detailed, in fact, interior and exterior. Should be completely pristine again when I get it back. And Bright is paying for it, isn’t that right, Bright?”

“Excuse me? What?” Malcolm stammers. 

“Don’t you remember offering to pay to have my car cleaned? You’re the one who made a mess of it.” Gil folds his arms across his chest and directs his gaze pointedly at Malcolm.

_Godfuckingdammit, Bright, if you weren’t an adult, I would whup your ass with a birch rod._

At least that’s the thought that goes through Gil’s mind. In reality, Gil has never and would never lay an angry hand on that kid, even when he had acted as surrogate father to him when Malcolm was just a small child. It wasn’t Gil’s nature, and Lord knows that poor child needed all the love and kindness he could get. So too, the adult.

“When you…s _pill…_ something in my car, you make things right and offer to pay to get it cleaned. In this case, you’re paying a little bit more, because I want the entire thing detailed, and I think that is a small price to pay, given the situation.”

JT is picturing a neon blue Slurpee. Dani is picturing finger food and some fancy dipping sauce. It doesn’t seem odd to them at all for Gil to go to full-on detailing after something as minor as a spill. And they just assume Malcolm’s bowed head and bright red cheeks are a result of being publicly admonished.

JT shakes his head and puts a sympathetic hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Dude, you outta know by now. Don’t mess with the LeMans.”  
  
Dani clucks her tongue at Malcolm, suppressing an amused smile.

Malcolm gets his phone out and sends another text to Madison. “Scratch that, reverse it.“

**Author's Note:**

> I just love comments in general, including criticisms, and welcome corrections to grammar and spelling errors.
> 
> June 2020 note:  
> The PS Muse is super-strong these days. Hit me up with a prompt, if you'd like. Anything involving Malcolm Bright and / or Ainsley Whitly.  
> (Brother/Sistercest is fine, but I won't do parent/child incest. )


End file.
